


A Hunt Gone Wrong

by johnlockandthorki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Anger, Consensual, Dom!Cas, Grace-Powered Orgasms, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Punishment, Safewords, Sub!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 12:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3850399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnlockandthorki/pseuds/johnlockandthorki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean makes a mistake on a hunt, nearly costing him his life. Castiel shows him how delicate and fragile he actually is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hunt Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't posted stuff in a while, but any comments are welcome, kudos is especially appreciated. Don't be afraid to give constructive criticism.
> 
> Un-beta'd so let me know if there are any mistakes

Cas slammed him against the motel room door, hands bunching in the lapels of Dean's jacket.

 

"You are an idiot, Dean Winchester! Do you really think I wanted that? Do you really think I needed you to be the hero and save me? No! I didn't! I would rather have gone through what they did to me, than what they did to you!" He looked like he was about to rip Dean to pieces.

 

He shoved Dean into the wall again, but his anger dissipated. He struggled to breathe, the air sharp and cold against his throat.

 

"They-" Castiel's voice broke. He felt a burning sensation in the corner of his eyes. He slumped his head forwards, his forehead hitting the worn leather jacket; the tears paved his puffy cheeks.

 

The next time he spoke, he didn't try to control his voice. "They can't kill me, Dean! They were young and naïve. The worst they could've done was break my body beyond repair; but I'd find a new one! You're only human. You wouldn't've survived what they put me through. Not ten minutes!"

 

Dean went to tilt his chin up, his thumb resting in the gentle dimple, so that sad, blue eyes stared into green ones.

 

Anger suddenly flared through the angel, and he ripped his chin from Dean's grasp.

 

"Don't touch me. You don't deserve to, not after what you did."

 

He stormed off outside, before Dean could say anything, to get some fresh air. How could Dean do that to him? No he shouldn't dwell on it; he just needed to make sure his emotions were under control.

 

After a while, he returned to the motel room. He walked in on the hunter bent over his duffel, clad in only light grey boxers. He moved past him to collapse into a rickety chair from the kitchenette.

 

As Dean stood, he stretched his arms above his head, giving the angel a good view. He huffed and turned his back, ignoring how his dick jumped at the sight of the other man's muscles rippling. 

 

As a scrunched up, blue t-shirt came into view, and Dean wrapped his arms around his neck, he tensed up, clenching his jaw. 

 

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'd do it again. In a heartbeat." His breath ghosted over the back of his neck.

 

Fury bubbled in Castiel's chest. He sprang up and span round. 

 

"You will do no such thing! You could have- you could've fucking died, Dean! After five minutes with them, you had seven bruised ribs; a punctured lung; and internal bleeding!" With each injury he listed, he poked Dean hard enough to make him stumble back a couple of feet. "If it weren't for me, you'd be dead. I was tortured for hours, but I can heal my wounds! I am an angel of The Lord. You are a _mortal_  human, a fact you seem to forget regularly." At that, he shoved him hard enough that the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he fell onto the bed. 

 

He tried to sit up, but he couldn't. It was as if he was being held down. He looked to Cas, eyes wide in disbelief. 

 

"No, Dean, you cannot move. And, yes, I am the reason. I am going to show you just how helpless and vulnerable you really are. Do you understand?"

 

He had a predatory look on his face that, in all honesty, sent chills down Dean's spine and straight to his dick. His mouth was dry and he didn't trust his voice, so he nodded.

 

"Good. I want you to lie down comfortably. And I mean comfortably because you will be in that position until I say otherwise. Understood?"

 

Again, Dean nodded.

 

His limbs suddenly felt lighter, and he tested his movements. Satisfied that he could move, he wriggled around a bit until he felt happy, nodded, welcoming the heavy sensation.

 

"I am going to prove how weak humans are. You will be begging for release before I have even broken a sweat. But you won't get it. Not unless I am convinced you have learnt your lesson. The safe word is 'uncle'."

 

Castiel removed his coat and blazer, folding them over the back of a chair. He turned back to Dean, noting the blush across the hunter's cheeks and chest, how his underwear had darkened where his hard cock leaked.

 

He knelt by the edge of the bed, dragging his nails along the hunter's leg, causing him to writhe with pleasure. He repeated the motion twice more, across the other leg and across his groin. The agonisingly slow pace had Dean bucking up into the air searching for friction. 

 

The angel mouthed at the top of Dean's thigh, his warm breath seeping through the fabric and over his erection. His nipples became sensitive to the sudden change in temperature; he let out a ragged breath.

 

Castiel crawled up onto the bed, legs astride the other man's thighs, arms braced against the mattress beside his head. He dipped his head, low enough that their lips brushed against each other, licking his lips so that his tongue teased across the other man's. He crashed their mouths together in a hot kiss, which was all teeth and tongues.

 

But it was short-lived. He pulled away, grinning as Dean whined as he struggled to follow the kiss.

 

The angel raised his eyebrows, as if that proved his earlier statement; Dean just flopped back down, closing his eyes.

 

His eyes sprang open as something warm and wet laved at his collarbone. He groaned when he saw the black mop of hair. He fought against the restraints. He wanted to run his hands through that mess of hair. But they stayed true.

 

Castiel traced the freckles scattered across Dean's chest. He bit against the muscle, teasing; soothed the aching skin with kisses, before moving on.

 

When he reached one of his nipples, he ran over it with the flat of his tongue. Gasping, Dean arched his back towards the heat, rolling his head back against the blankets. 

 

"Oh God, babe!" spilled from his mouth as the angel began teasing the sensitive skin with his teeth.

 

Castiel raised his head, looking him dead in the eyes. "Don't use my father's name." It wasn't a request, it was a command.

 

The air rushed out through Dean's nostrils as he bit down on his lip, nodding in agreement. He tried to keep himself quiet, but Cas was too damn good at working him up. 

 

When he moved onto the other nipple, he brought his hand up to undo his own tie, throwing it off to the side of the bed.

 

He'd be lying if he said Dean's noises and writhing weren't affecting him, but he was determined not to let him see how far gone he was.

 

After a few seconds, Dean was pleading:

 

"Please, Cas. Baby, come on I need more."

 

He pushed his chest out, trying to get Castiel to move lower, but he felt an invisible hand push him back down. 

 

Smiling at the audible whine that came from Dean's lips, Cas travelled down the tan, toned torso, tracing his tongue around his navel, before continuing towards the waistband of his boxers. He rubbed his face in the fabric, nosing at the elastic and, as he did, an idea formed. 

 

"Dean?" He looked up at the hunter, locking blue eyes with green.

 

When he held his attention, Cas winked; as the black lashes met, the grey material disappeared. Dean hissed as his dick, free from its confinement, sprang forward to hit Cas on the mouth, the sensitive underside grazing against the stubble.

 

The angel brought his hand up from where it rested against the bed, to wrap around the base of Dean's throbbing erection, holding it still as he licked a stripe from base to tip. He placed several open-mouthed kisses around the head, before he took it into his mouth, relishing the heavy weight on his tongue and the salty bitterness that was all Dean. 

 

He bobbed his head, taking in a little more each time. Dean was writhing, gasping at every movement that Cas' tongue made against his member.

 

As his cock moved in and out of his mouth, the angel put his hand under Dean's knee and lifted it towards his chest, until his foot rested against the comforter. He repeated the action on the other leg; this left the hunter feeling open, exposed, turning him on even more.

 

Castiel manipulated the elements, leaving his fingers covered in lubricant. He reached down and circled a finger around the puckered muscle, feeling him jump at the sensation and his dick throbbed in his mouth. 

 

He tried again. This time Dean was expecting it, and was relaxed enough that he could push his finger gently in, and pull it out.

 

Cas found Dean's prostate, and Dean screamed out: "Right there, baby! Right there!"

 

Cas decided that he didn't want Dean to come too soon, but he didn't want to stop; so he used his grace to put pressure at the base of his cock.

 

When he realised what Cas had done, Dean stated at him in disbelief.

 

"Shit, have you just used your Grace as a makeshift cock ring?!"

 

Cas looked up at him, slowly adding another finger to loosen Dean further, readying him for what was to come. In both senses of the word.

 

He slid Dean out of his mouth, wiping his lips with the sleeve of his shirt.

 

He continued pumping his fingers in and out, travelling back up to kiss Dean again, making sure that he could taste himself on Cas’ tongue. And judging by the whine, he could.

 

 He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed the pillows from above Dean’s head, positioning them under his lower back; this altered the angle so that Cas was hitting his prostate on every inward thrust.

 

Dean was a gasping, writhing mess by the time he had three fingers inside him, precum leaking down the length of the shaft. He was begging Cas for more.

 

“I don’t care if it’s another finger, your tongue or cock. I just need more! Please, baby! I need something else.”

 

Cas finally gave in and removed his fingers, earning a whine from the hunter. He got up off of the bed and reached around in their bag, returning with a foil packet held in his greasy fingers. He removed his tie and slacks, revealing that he was just as turned on as Dean was. His impressive member stood proud, jutting out, drops of precum beading at the tip.

 

He opened the packet with his teeth and rolled the condom over his length, eyes rolling back at the sudden contrast in temperature. He knelt between Dean’s raised legs and applied more lube to his erection. Leaning forward, he rested the head of his cock against the stretched rim, teasingly, applying not enough pressure to breach the first ring of muscle.

 

Dean was desperately trying to rock back, onto Cas’ cock, but his restraints kept him in place. The angel was having a hard time not pushing in all the way; he craved the tight heat he knew was waiting for him.

 

He slowly eased his way in, every now and then he pumped the hunter’s erection to distract him from the discomfort. When he was fully seated, Cas paused a moment before pulling nearly all the way out, and slowly pushing back in. He repeated the motion, but each time his hips snapped forwards a little bit harder and more forcefully.

 

Soon, all that could be heard was the occasional whine mixed in with the sound of skin slapping against skin and ragged breathing.

 

Dean was straining against his bonds, pleading: “Cas, baby, please. Want to touch you, want to hold you, want to feel you. You were right, so right. I’m sorry. Please baby, let me touch you.”

 

Cas missed the feel of Dean’s nails scraping along his back, arms and ass as he fucked him. So he let the restraints go on his arms, and he soon found one hand pulling his neck down to mash their mouths together and the other was placed on his lower back, nails already at work.

 

He was slowly losing himself to the feeling. But he couldn’t come yet, Dean hadn’t begged. He knew of one sure fire way of getting the hunter babbling incoherently.

 

He grabbed Dean’s leaking member and started to pump his hand out of rhythm to his hips, filling him with pleasure. As soon as Dean's hands started grasping at the sheets, Cas stopped his hip movements so that only the tip of his cock remained inside, but kept his hand circling around the head of Dean’s dick, overwhelming him.

 

"Oh, please Cas! Let me cum. I'm so close. Please. Baby, please. I need you in me, need to feel you when I cum, want to be filled with your cum. Babe, I'm begging. Please."

 

Dean was lost to the feeling, and Cas had heard what he wanted to hear. So he slammed back into Dean, making sure to hit his prostate a split second after lifting all the Grace holding him.

 

Dean came with a silent scream, head thrown back, stomach muscles convulsing, bringing his face towards Cas, kissing him once, as their chests were striped with his come.

 

But Cas didn’t stop moving his hips once Dean had come. He kept going, knowing that he was over stimulating Dean, because now it was his turn to actually enjoy the sex, to full appreciate the feeling of the wet heat that surrounded him.

 

Dean, once out of his state of euphoria, cottoned on to what Cas was doing and he started to rock back and meet his thrusts, clenching his inner walls.

 

Cas’ hips stuttered at the sudden sensations, and he could feel the tell-tale pleasure of his orgasm building, low in his stomach. Dean grabbed a handful of the messy black locks and pulled Cas down until their lips met. Dean kissed him, his tongue delving into places he knew wound the angel up, biting on Cas’ bottom lip as one kiss flowed into the next.

 

Cas moved his hips faster, just letting Dean attack his mouth as he focused on the bundle of excitement that was about to explode.

 

Dean was getting worked up towards his second orgasm of the night faster than he was expecting and, with one brush of Cas’ stomach against the sensitive underside of his cock, Dean was coming again, hard enough to make him see stars.

 

But Cas still didn’t stop moving his hips. He moved his hand off of Dean’s erection and grabbed onto him, hand latching onto his left shoulder.

 

He focused all his attention on letting go, and after a few more thrusts, he was tipped over the edge. His Grace flared out of him, nearly blinding Dean, and his hands burned red hot. He finally collapsed on top of Dean.

 

That’s when they Dean noticed that Cas had gripped the motel sheets in his hand and they had started to smoke.

 

“SHIT! Cas, do something!”

 

Cas frowned up at him, then to the smoking sheets. He drew in a deep breath, blew on the sheets, and the smoke drifted away.

 

The hunter laughed, and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

He awoke a few minutes later, stumbling half asleep out of bed and into the bathroom, splashing his face with water. Looking up into the mirror, Dean jumped out of his skin.

 

“Dammit, Cas! Don’t sneak up on a guy like that.” He breathed deeply, dipping his head. It was at that point that he realised how much, or how little, clothing he was wearing compared to Castiel.

 

He grabbed the towel from the back of the door, holding it in front of his bare groin.

 

Sheepishly, he looked back up at the angel, through the curtain of lashes. “Hi.”

 

“Hello, Dean.”


End file.
